The Fowler Digest Experimentation
by BountyHunter1009
Summary: "My relationship with Amy truly has changed. Amy is no longer my friend who is a girl, nor is she my girlfriend with whom I do not interact; Amy is my girlfriend, and I am proud of it."
1. The Spa Conundrum

Dr. Sheldon Cooper here,

The days go by slowly (in lamest terms, they're filled with joy) now that Amy Farah Fowler is in my life. It's as if I have met my match on an intellectual and psychological basis. When she's around me, my nostrils begin to flare, my palms start to sweat, and my genitalia react as they have done on no previous occasions. I feel as if I am on a cloud (as Koothrappali says), and as my mother would say, 'it is one of Jesus' many gifts.'

I, as you know, Diary, find the very notion of deity to be complete hokum, but nevertheless, I will yield on this special occasion. I must say, it is as if my life has been completed; my job is almost at a breakthrough in understanding the string-theory implications of the creation and structure of the universe, I have created a social-web packed with people I deem worthy, and now, Amy is the crown on top of my head: the cap of my pyramid, if you will.

_Bazinga!_

I crack myself up sometimes… I find that I must take the job of other people, seeing as I am so difficult to amuse. Although I share a deep love for Amy, much like the love I have for my Mother and Meemaw, I have no desire for anything more than a relationship of the minds. On that note, I must add that I was deeply disappointed in Amy when she made me cuddle with her, and before that, she had the audacity to put coitus onto the table! I truly wish Amy never met the Cornhusking Nebraskan who is Penny.

Penny has turned Amy, who I thought to be spectacular, into something more depressing. Now Amy ingests alcohol on a regular basis, has smoked a cigar (possibly more than once, but I asked her to stop informing about her "Girls Nights" after she came home 'wasted'), and has even held my hand. To this day I don't understand how she has gone through such a hogwash metamorphosis: Frank Kafka would be ashamed of her! Anyway, I will now inform you of my day with Amy on Friday.

Seeing as it was a Friday, my t-shirt was embossed with the Flash's symbol, the crimson red backdrop shining like the Pasadena sun. Amy wore a plaid skirt (heinous, in my opinion, but being the social person I am, I told her it was delightful (her bad traits are rubbing off on me)) which was yellow and blue, a white t-shirt, and a purple sweatshirt on top. On her legs were maroon stockings, and her feet were clad with what I assume to be pleather shoes. Anyway, fashion is a tangent which I could jibber-jabber about all day, yet, seeing as I am nothing but a focused man, I will return to my original statement.

Amy was at my apartment, and we were sitting on the couch (of course, I was in my spot, and Amy sat next to me). We were alone that fine sunny day, as Leonard had gone over to Howard's to eat his mother's famous brisket. Based on the fact that his mother scares the bajeezus out of me, I decided to share the day with Amy. Now, in a small flashback, I will give a detailed account of my encounter:

Amy entered the apartment, and to my dismay, she was crying! Being the kind person that I am, I offered her a warm beverage. She asked for cocoa, but seeing as it was May, I could do no such thing (May has no r's in it). She was discouraged by this fact, but she was delighted to find that Leonard had purchased cocoa flavored tea. I heated it to 183 degrees, placed 7 small marshmallows in it (I was attempting to create the illusion that it truly was the cocoa which Amy desired), and handed the mug to her. I had placed a Star Trek cozy on it, so as to avoid any blistering or scalding of the skin due to the excessive heat radiating through the ceramic mug. I sat with her on the couch, placed my hand on her shoulder, and said, "There, there."

After I said this, her tears seemed to cease, and she subsequently opened her mouth.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm crying?" Amy looked at me with an expression (if I had to make a stab) that suggested she was unhappy with my lack of comforting methods.

"Of course, Amy! I was simply making you the beverage one offers to saddened guests!"

"Of course, I'm sorry I ever doubted you." She smiled, quickly moving her feet (which were on the floor) onto the couch.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slowly.

"Simple: I'm attempting to coax your mind into fondling my breasts with your hands, and am doing so with the obvious subliminal message of 'being sexy.'"

"Really, Amy? I thought we've already gone over this: no unnecessary touching shall ever, nor _has _ever, taken place between us!"

Amy shrugged, "That's a pity."

"I'll avoid that last comment in the hopes that you'll stop talking about it. Now, what's troubling you? Additionally, keep in mind that, 'I don't want to talk about it' is a perfectly viable answer."

"Unfortunately for you, I have an extreme desire to talk about it, and am going to now with extreme gusto."

"This, just like your previous comment, is a pity. However, being the loving person I am, I'll allow you to continue."

"Thank you, Sheldon, you're a real friend." Amy shrugged her shoulders, the typical sign that one is about to reveal something deeply personal. She shifted for a minute or two more, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. As if by cue, Amy began to spill her troubles one by one to me.

"Remember how Bernadette and Penny went dress shopping without me a while back?"

"Of course I do, I have an eidetic memory." I gave Amy a look of haughty derision.

"Well, I have been informed implicitly by Leonard that they recently spent a weekend in Big Sur at a spa, and they didn't invite me."

"And so that makes you sad, no?"

"Yes." Amy frowned.

"I knew it!" I let out a sigh of triumph, and quickly recomposed myself.

"Do you have any advice as to how to proceed?"

"I'd like to answer that with a tale of woe from my childhood." I lifted my arm in a circular movement.

"Please… continue." Amy shifted on the couch once more, placing her limbs into a comfortable position.

"In the seventh grade, which for me was essentially college, have you ever pondered who I made friends with?"

"I have, but I came to the conclusion that you had none."

"You have concluded correctly. However, seeing as I always have a logical point to my tales, I will add some more detail."

"Please, Sheldon, I don't want detail, I want support." Amy looked at me, consternated.

"Very well. My point to you is this: Bernadette and Penny didn't not invite you because they didn't want you to be there, but because they thought you wouldn't enjoy it! Now, to relate this back to my statement about college, people didn't want to be my friend not because I was annoying, but because they knew I would find them to be stupid, insolent fools!"

"What a cute, yet saddening story, and not for the reasons I think you believe." I made a confused face. "Thank you Sheldon, I think you actually helped me recover from my fretting." Amy breathed deeply, pushing her hair back with her hand. She then smiled, wiped the wet tears from her pale skin, and straightened herself out.

"Now, are you gonna fondle my breasts, or not?"

I looked away, rolling my eyes powerfully. I then turned to face Amy, and replied with a witty remark, and told her to escort herself out.

"Oh c'mon, you know I'm only kidding!"

"I'm sad to say, that based on recent events, I cannot come to that conclusion."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

I then stood up, walked over to the fridge, and got myself a bottle of Yoo-hoo. I chugged the liquid (one of the first times I consumed mass amounts of liquid speedily on an occasion where I wasn't being forced by a mean bully), and then returned to my spot on the couch.

"Despite your ridiculous comments about coitus, I'd like to state that I think this conversation was very successful."

"Seconded. You came to the rescue in a time of need, much like I rescue Rhesus monkeys after electrocuting centers of the brain that don't like to be stimulated."

I gave Amy a look of deep confusion, and then solemnly nodded my head.

"Back to the topic of this conversation: if it's OK with you, I'd like to publish it in my online journal."

"I'd be fine with that, as long as you agree to let me scan your brain the next time I lecture you on feelings."

"A shrewd move, Amy Farah Fowler, very shrewd."

I then was forced into a hug (I'm sure I'll be infected by some pathogen she was carrying), and escorted Amy to the door.

"Good day, Sheldon Cooper."

"Good day, Amy Farah Fowler."

There it is, Diary, my encounter with Amy. I'll keep you up to date on my escapades with what seems to be the world's most interesting woman!

Sheldon Cooper AFK


	2. The Big Sur Dilemma

Dr. Sheldon Cooper, Diary,

Today is Thursday, so we had everyone over for pizza and played the best of the vintage video games (tonight's game was Zelda: Ocarina of Time (for the Nintendo 64)). It was a blissful night indeed (at least, after my encounter with Amy, which I'll get into later)! Anyway- my point is that Amy is came over with the rest of the gang, and seeing as Penny and Bernadette completely broke her heart in recent days, it was interesting to see how she reacted. As of right now, Leonard is next to me, sitting at the adjacent desk. I believe he's working on his rudimentary physics experiments, however, as he only repeats experiments successfully carried out by the Italians, one wouldn't be able to tell if he was actually working. Now, as this diary is meant to be about me and Amy, I'll jump to giving you, Diary, the detailed and complete tale of what happened tonight:

It all began with the group I call 'my friends' getting to our apartment. Of course, Leonard and I were the first to arrive (I chuckled as I typed that, Diary), and around five thirty, Raj and Howard joined us. Raj had traveled on with Howard on his Vespa, but based on Howard's angered facial expression, I could only infer that Raj had been annoying on the way over.

"I still can't believe you grabbed my crotch." Howard stated it outright, a hoarse tone escaping through his vocal cords

"I didn't know that's what it was, Dude!"

"Oh, well that makes it _all _better!" Howard said sarcastically.

"Great!" Raj beamed.

Unless they conversed during the one time I relieved myself that night, I don't believe Raj and Howard exchanged words the rest of that Thursday (except, of course, when Raj whispered in Howard's ear due to his selective mutism, something he really needs to get fixed). Despite this, the facial expression 'gallery' I've been trying to create was helped deeply by the two of them. It seemed as if they couldn't keep their angry eyes off of each other!

About fifteen minutes after they got to our apartment (they sat on the couch, not talking the whole time), Penny and Bernadette walked in. Apparently they had been drinking across the hall prior to coming to our place, and I found it incredibly rude that they hadn't used Listerine to rid their mouths of the alcohol. Gosh, Diary, it's as if people have no manners these days… Howard got off of the couch and hugged his fiancé.

"Where's Amy?" I asked them.

"Oh- we invited her over a few hours ago, but she seemed upset. Is everything alright with her?" Penny looked worried.

"She's deeply saddened by the fact that you went to Big Sur without her." I gave them a look of the deepest exhaustion. "I thought you would have apologized by now!"

After I stopped talking, they attempted to give a ridiculous excuse.

"We didn't invite her because the last time we gave her a makeover, she requested immediately that she be returned to normal!" Bernadette chimed, her irritating voice (like a baby pig, if you ask me) sending vibrations around the apartment.

"Nevertheless, I was forced to deal with her moodiness last Friday. I'd be surprised if she even talked to you today, despite the impeccable advice I gave her." There was a pause in the room.

"Gosh, I feel terrible!" Penny yelled.

"Me too." Bernadette lowered her head.

"Hey, Penny?" Leonard opened his mouth for the first time that night.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sure Amy would feel a lot better if you went to get the pizza instead of me." Leonard made 'cute' eyes in the hopes that Penny would retrieve the pizza.

"Bite me."

Raj laughed, whispering into Howard's ear.

"What?" Penny looked accusingly at the laughing Indian man.

Raj whispered into Howard's ear.

"He says, 'if you want to keep mooching dinner off of Leonard, you should probably go get the pizza.'"

"Yeah? Well tell him if he wants to tell me what to do he should just say it to my face." Penny gave Raj a sly look, and Raj abruptly left the room to relieve himself.

Leonard then said goodbye to everybody, took his key from the key-bowl, and left to fetch the pizza from Luigi's. After Priya ripped the Roommate Agreement apart, I made the necessary actions to switch to Luigi's pizza on Thursdays. She may be in India now, but she was a real (as Penny put it) 'Gossipy Bitch.' A few minutes after Leonard left, there were a series of awkward knocks on the door. After the fifth knock, Amy walked in, disheveled.

"Who is it?" I asked this simple question to the empty air around me.

"Please, Sheldon, I've had a rough day."

"Sorry." I said.

"Hi Amy." Penny and Bernadette said it at the exact same time, both of them saying it with a hint of discomfort.

Amy glared at them sadly, and then sighed. She ignored them, and walked directly over to me. She sat down in Leonard's chair (at his desk), and slowly rotated. As she did this, Penny stood up and walked over to meet her.

"Amy, I know that you must feel terrible, but we really didn't think you'd be upset! I know for a fact that we both would have loved to have you there, but we didn't think you liked 'girly' stuff!"

"Yeah." Bernadette added.

"I understand, and I would like to respond with two separate statements. One, I'm a girl, thus your second point is rendered moot. Second, you still could have invited me." Amy turned around in her chair so her face was looking away from Penny.

"Yeah, I know, and we're sorry! You know I'm still your bestie!"

"Bestie at disappointment." Amy slouched, her shoulders becoming limp.

Penny turned to face Bernadette.

"Well… we tried." She then sat back down on the chair next to the couch, sharing the seat with the miniscule Bernadette.

"Yes, you did indeed. And yet, here I am, Amy Farah Fowler, the girl with whom nobody wishes to hang out. Still." Amy began to sob.

"Oh, Amy!" this time it was Bernadette who attempted to comfort her. "Don't talk like that! We promise we'll invite you to everything we do from here on out. I know we said that exact same thing after the dress shopping accident, but you have to understand: we truly didn't think you'd want to go to Big Sur!"

"I'd like to draw your attention to the happenings the Institute of Interdisciplinary Study Symposium on the Impact of Current Scientific Research on Societal Interactions."

"What about it?" Bernadette was becoming tense.

"We all went to the spa there, did we not?"

Bernadette didn't know how to answer.

"Well, maybe, but I'm sure Penny knows exactly how to respond to that statement!"

Penny gave an aggravated (I think) look at Bernadette, and then rose off of her bottom to speak to the damaged Amy.

"Yes, we may have gone to the spa, but do you remember what happened there?"

"You'll have to be more specific." Amy pointed her nose in the air (although she was still looking away from Penny).

"If you recall, you had to leave the spa because, and I quote, 'this place is too damn feminine for me!' After you said that, Leonard became offended, and a fight broke out between all of us. Thanks to you, we had to leave in the middle of our steam-bath!"

"That may be correct, but you seem to have forgotten the fact that you were taking that steam-bath with what is probably the most beautiful man I've ever seen! That, in itself, does not offend me, but what did is that you completely ditched me for a boy-wonder. Yet again, I was deserted by someone thought to be close to me. Ironically, it was almost the same as when my "friends" trapped me in a sauna with a horny otter. However, while that caused physical pain, this caused pain truly psychological."

During this entire fiasco, I merely sat and watched. It was very curious to me that Amy kept her ground! I thought, being the needy woman she is, she'd accept their apology; however, I was apparently mistaken! Penny walked over to where Amy was, reaching out with her arms to pat Amy on the head.

"There, there. Why don't you come over to my place? We can talk this out someplace private."

"Fine. But on one condition: Sheldon shall accompany us."

"Sure thing." Penny smiled and took Amy by the waist, leading her out the front door. I followed her, and Bernadette was right behind me. As we exited the door, Leonard had finally arrived with the pizza. We practically mauled him to get at the food, each of us taking one slice on our way to Penny's. Once we got there, everybody sat down (of course, I sat in my allotted spot), and Amy began to pour out her misery.

Most of it was a complete waste of my time, but during some of it, when she discussed the neurobiological implications, I learned things. After twenty minutes of Amy sobbing, whining, and spilling her heart out, she forgave her two besties. She finally realized that they never meant to hurt her, and although she was still upset, they took her out for gelato (without me, I might add). After they left me, I returned to my apartment. Upon arrival, I was forced to exude the details of what went on over at Penny's, and much like the first time, it was boring as hell! After that, we played Zelda, and it was just as amazing as it was when it came out in 1998. Boy- what an evening!

There, Diary, there is my latest encounter with Amy Farah Fowler the Vixen. It wasn't so much related to me (gosh, was it boring to sit through), but seeing as I'm her friend, I thought I'd document such a case. I made plans with her (via text) to meet up at her place on Sunday; I hope it will be entertaining! I can't bear to sit through another one of her 'cuddle-sessions.'

Sheldor The Conqueror AFK


	3. The PutPut Paradox

Dr. Sheldon Cooper Here,

As I informed you in my last entry, I went to visit Amy on Sunday, and I must admit, it was much more delightful than anticipated. Seeing as Penny, my free-loading cornhusking neighbor (as I know I've told you all about) has ruined Amy Farah Fowler, I'm nervous Amy will have wont for coitus every time she sees me! Additionally, when Leonard was dating Priya (a know-it-all 'bitch,' to quote Amy), Amy and I performed the gossip-experiment, and with our results, I became nervous I had become a chick-magnet! However, after saying that, Amy simply pet me on the shoulder; an action I regret and am confounded by to this very day. Anyway, Diary, back to my original thesis: I went to see Amy on Sunday. Gosh, it's as if my brilliant mind is thinking upon so many different issues and problems in the world that I can't even focus on you! Diary, I truly send my apologies. However, seeing as my previous statement was nothing but a sad and useless tangent, I will move forward:

It was a warm Sunday; the sun was shining as it always does in Pasadena, and the larks pleasantly chirped from their metropolitan 'branches.' I left the apartment at 14:08, a time I have perfected for getting to Amy's. It allows me to make all of the lights on Los Robles Ave, and also gives me an excess four minutes for any puttering or urinating which may become necessary before departure. Per my mental agreement, I went down the stairs while concurrently saying the stars which are closest to me:

"_Proxima Centauri's the nearest star, the celestial bodies that follow are." _You know what it is, Diary.

As suspected, I arrived at Amy's house at precisely 14:30, and knocked on her door a total of nine times. I was forced to cover my ears upon immediate arrival outside of her door as I could hear her scratching out Godless tunes on her harp. After what seemed like four atonal pieces, Amy finally opened up the door, and smelled of mint.

"Why do you smell of Mentha Spicata?" I inquired.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm sending a message via your nasal passages up to your brain in order to make you think I'm a sexy beast." Amy beamed.

"I thought we discussed this."

"Indeed we did."

"And?"

"I rejected your statement."

"You know: you used to be fun." I glared at her.

"Let's just go out." Amy grabbed my arm, closed her door, and dragged me towards the stairs.

"Where are we going? Aren't we staying at your place to experiment with your captive Reese's Monkey?"

Amy paused, "You're so gullible."

Although I was quite nervous she was going to take me on a girl's-night-type-activity, Amy took me to a place which I love: Put-put Golf. We drove for thirty minutes in Amy's car, and when I saw the sign with the mini clubs, I smiled.

"Are we going to play golf?" I bounced up in down in my seat, the cushion providing the least amount of lumbar support possible.

"What an embarrassing question. And besides, why would we play golf when we could go to the Fowler Institute of Neuroscience?

I shot her a frown before inquiring further.

"If I may ask, what is the Fowler Institute? Did you receive millions of dollars through achieving orgasm?" I looked at her blankly.

"Excuse me? Are you implying that I get paid through porn?"

I jerked backward in my seat. "Oh, dear Lord, no! I was simply referring back to the experiment you partook in a while ago; remember: you achieved orgasm through stimulating the pleasure centers of the brain! What are you implying?"

Amy looked down in an abashed manner. "I apologize, Sheldon. All of these nights out with my Bestie and her petite friend have turned my brain into a metaphorical sewer."

"Apology accepted, although you should seriously consider spending less time with them. I say, it's as if you lose one million synapses every time you visit them."

"Again, Sheldon, I'm sorry, but I can't give up my two best friends; I haven't had any for my entire life, best _or_ normal friends, and I shan't give up what I've gained."

"Shrewd, Amy Farah Fowler, shrewd indeed." I gave her an assuring smile before allowing her to continue about the Institute.

"Anyway- the Institute is my small sanctuary on the side of this mini golf place. It's the most serene location I've ever been in nature, and over the years, I've created paradise!"

"Unlikely, but go on." I rotated my head fifteen degrees to the right, allowing my eardrums to pick up as much sound as possible.

"With the help of Penny's Nebraskan roots (if you know what I mean), we've created a small shed to hold different neurobiological tools."

Amy parked her car in the parking lot of the mini-golf course, and although I was upset about not playing golf, I was more intrigued to see which "brain-machines" (as I'm sure the under qualified Howard Wolowitz would say) were stored in Amy's shed. We then exited the vehicle, which, if I may add, was painted a particularly heinous green.

"I have EEGs, EKGs, and a few other brain scan devices." Amy looked especially happy.

"Point of inquiry."

"Continue."

"Seeing as they are merely stored in a shed, how do all of those massive machines even fit inside?"

Amy didn't reply verbally, but instead took me by the hand (an uncomfortable moment for me and my distaste for contamination) and led me across the parking lot. After veering past the cars, we reached the edge of the golf course, the boundaries being marked by a chain-link fence. She squirmed through a hole in the fence, and after many a minute of attempted persuasive methods, Amy was forced to drag me through the hole against my will. Although I felt like a trespassing criminal, I was glad I did what I did, as on the other side of the fence was Amy's 'lair.'

The shed was a decent size, but by some architectural feat, it seemed to be doubly as large on the inside. The floors were shiny white, the walls were silver with a metallic finish, and, just as Amy had informed me, the shed was full of machines.

"Oh my gosh, Amy Farah Fowler; this is even more pragmatic than what you said when you wanted me to meet your mother!" I ran around the shed like a ten year old who received an Xbox for Christmas, skidding around the corners in order to see all of the fancy new things.

"How could you possibly afford all of this?" as I said this, Amy was turning on a brain-scan.

"My partners donated most of the money, and my parents are reasonably wealthy. In addition, now that Bernadette is getting paid, to quote, "a butt-load," she donated a substantial amount as well. That, paired with the outstanding awards and grants my research has received, was enough money to purchase a small laboratory for research in my later years."

"Wow, Amy! I wasn't aware that your research was of merit to actual people; very good! I wonder if my work with String-Theory Condensates could get me anything like this?" I smiled gleefully, hoping beyond belief that I could exploit a couple of thousand out of my joke-of-a-boss Dr. Gabelhauser.

"I'll avoid that thinly veiled insult and respond to your question: no, I don't think you could."

"Well why ever not, Amy? My research is far more superior to yours."

"Sheldon, the last time we discussed this your mother was forced to come up from Texas to reconcile our friendship. With that being said, I don't think either of us should discuss whose research is ipso-facto better than whose, although the answer is clearly mine."

"Fine, I'll stipulate to that only if you scan my brain."

"I was hoping you'd say that!" Amy smiled, attempting to rid me of the anger I was feeling towards her at the moment.

I quickly got myself into the donut-shaped-machine, and after a series of noises and coaxing gestures from Amy, we had ourselves some magnificent scans.

"Your prefrontal cortex is the epitome of sexual arousal."

"Agreed- that's what I was going for."

"Wow- I've never seen such a developed Wernicke's Area!"

"Nor have I. I truly am remarkable."

"I wouldn't say as such, but I will say you have quite a brain. If I find anything particularly interesting when I study the scans in greater detail, I shall notify you and publish my findings."

"Sounds like a plan, Amy Farah Fowler." I shifted my weight to my right side. "I must say, this is much more fun than moving a ball around with a stick: thank you." I smiled in her direction, making her know that I was actually grateful.

"Seconded. We should do this again sometime!"

"Please, Amy, you're congealing my esophagus with sappiness."

"Sorry, Sheldon, I thought I was being nice. Shall we go back to my place for a Yoohoo and cookies?"

"Sounds like another great plan."

We then subsequently 'lifted ourselves up, dusted ourselves off, and got back in the saddle,' otherwise known as the car. Diary, just to clarify, if you are unfamiliar with my previous phrase, it is apparently from some pop-song by an artist who, if my understanding is correct, is from South America. I don't really know why I wrote it down, Diary, but it was something I wasn't too familiar with, so I thought I'd share it with you. Anywho, we got back to Amy's apartment.

"Oh my God!" Amy dropped her purse on the floor of her apartment after opening the door. "What did you do, Jafar?" Amy was scolding her monkey.

"Jafar?" I asked, silently.

"You've completely dismembered my organizational schematic for my papers! Bad monkey; bad, bad monkey. You're going right back to the lab to be given emphysema like the other monkeys!"

Amy packed up her monkey in anger as I awkwardly waited by the door.

"Amy?"

"What, Sheldon?"

"Aren't you going to get me that Yoohoo?"

"Please, Sheldon, now isn't a good time. Why don't you go home, ok?"

"Very well, Amy Farah Fowler, very well. But just you note, I was looking forward to a Yoohoo, and I will expect you to provide one for me on a later date, deal?"

"Whatever, Sheldon, just leave, ok?"

I walked out of the apartment and closed the door.

"Boy! It's definitely _some_body's time of the month!" I started walking towards the stairs.

"I can still hear you!"

On that note, I scrambled for the stairway, and when I heard Amy leaving her apartment with a shrieking primate, I practically skipped the last flight of steps.

With my brisk pace, I reached home faster than usual, and was relieved in doing this. I opened the door to Leonard, Koothrappali, and Howard, and was extremely delighted to see them. I informed them of my adventure with Amy, and despite the fact that she kicked me out of her apartment, I concluded that I had had a magnificent outing. I then sat on the couch (in my spot, of course) in an effort to join them as they watched TV.

"_Up next, Babylon Five."_

I glared in an estranged manner towards the ceiling.

"Leonard! You better change that channel this very instant!"

"Sheldon, c'mon! We all want to watch it; we've been having a marathon the entire day. So to answer your statement-"

"How on Earth does one answer a statement?" I said, accusingly.

"No, we will not change the channel. Go to your room and put on your noise-cancelling headphones. Please."

"And be subject to the rankest dialogue in the entire physical universe? I certainly think not. Per the Roommate Agreement, Babylon Five has been banned for all intents and purposes."

"Oh, screw the Roommate Agreement! Go to hell, Sheldon!" Leonard gave me a look of anger and disgust.

"With Babylon Five on, I'm there already!"

With that, Diary, I stormed out of the apartment in pure acrimony.

_Knock knock knock, Penny!_

_ Knock knock knock, Penny!_

_ Knock knock knock, Penny!_

Penny opened the door.

"What, Sheldon?"

"You must harbor me in your apartment, for the men across the hall are filling my ears with lies and filth!"

"Aw, come here, Sweetie. Did they put on that fancy sci-fi show again?"

"Yes, although I would hardly call it sci-fi. Star Trek is sci-fi, what they are watching is not sci-fi."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just sit down."

Penny walked over to the fridge as I sat on the couch.

"Penny?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a Yoohoo?"

"No, sorry Sweetie."

"Drat."

"I have wine!" Penny said, nonchalantly, her lip curling up in an interesting fashion.

I glared at her, "I don't drink alcohol."

"You could start. Plus, it'd make all our lives a hell of a lot easier." Penny grabbed her wine glass and slurped it dry.

"Please, Penny, I'm not in the mood for joking. Amy kicked me out of her place, and my friends just kicked me out of my own apartment."

"Amy kicked you out? Why?" Penny sat on the edge of the couch with a confused look on her face.

"Well, she didn't _really _kick me out. It was simply her monkey who was becoming an irritant."

"Oh. Well that clears everything up!" Penny smiled (sarcastically, after having a long discussion with her about the matter). Penny then got up off of the couch and went to her bedroom, presumably for a nap as I'm sure she drank herself into a stupor.

Anyway, Diary, I simply sat on Penny's couch for six hours. I did nothing during this time, and probably would have stayed there for an eternity if Amy hadn't come to pick me up. However, dearest Diary, that is a story for another day. Next time, perhaps.

Sheldon Cooper AFK


	4. The Defection Disposition

Dr. Sheldon Cooper Here,

Again, Diary, I am here to document my tales of woe, despair, and sometimes triumph, all through the exploits of my girlfriend, Amy Farah Fowler. If you recall, (surely you do, with my consummate DNA, you most likely have an eidetic memory) Amy Farah Fowler broke my heart (metaphorically speaking, of course; it'd be terrible if my cardiovascular system was severed such as the colloquialism known today), and I am here to inform you of the aftermath. To be honest, Diary, despite the fact that the outcome was more than ideal, I am furious at what has happened to Amy, and, as I am immediately attached to her, I'm furious at myself. I'm not too sure what has happened, but it would seem that Amy and I have begun a perilous journey off the face of our intellect, and into the pit of normality! In situations such as these, one can only care for oneself, and so I have taken immediate action: I shall work no less than fifteen hours each day, and shall strip my Relationship Agreement to the bare minimum so as to ensure the safety of my intelligence. I know Amy won't be too pleased, but seeing as I settle all ties, she doesn't even have to know about the changes I'll make. Anyway, Diary, I seem to have rambled on about some useless tangent, and shall further continue to describe my encounter with Amy. All of this information I shall give you was received and retold by me, or Penny, and the knowledge (side note: it pains me to use the words 'Penny' and 'knowledge' in the same sentence, but for the purpose of this entry, I'll yield) I have from her is in its most raw form, and any changes are simply due to the fact that I didn't like how she spoke:

I was still on the couch when Amy called Penny, so I didn't hear the phone ring (I had never been in such a deep slumber, but after a brief interrogation of Penny, I found that she had slipped Lunesta into my drink when I came over). So, per my last paragraph, you should note that this conversation between Amy and Penny is paraphrased.

"Amy? What's up?" Penny was in her fluorescent pyjama bottoms, the small flowers looking too much like the Hawaiian shirts my father would wear for me to be comfortable around them.

"Oh, you know, nothing much; I just recently had to deal with a lab full of addicted Reese's Monkeys, and, well, that's always fun."

"Nice, nice." Penny curled her lip upwards and stared at her nails, her phone companion already causing her boredom.

"Is Sheldon at home? He won't answer my texts, calls, Skype Calls, emails, IMs, Facebook messages, University Emails, Oovoo calls, or any other calls, messages, or forms of electronic communications I can possibly think of in the known universe. Wait! I guess I haven't tried smoke-signals, or reflector light-beams I could send off the surface of the moon!" Amy gasped after having to practically scream out the last word of her atypically long sentences.

"Well, let's just say he's at somebody's home who would much rather him be in the middle of the highway!" Penny spread her leg out and tapped her foot angrily against the ground. Amy got her message.

"Great- can I come over?"

Penny nearly dropped the phone to the ground, trying to decide between laughing or yelling at Amy's social awkwardness.

"Fine, but bring a couple of friends, I need some."

Before Penny could hang up, Amy chimed in, "Don't worry, Bestie, Amy won't disappoint you!"

Amy arrived twenty minutes later with a six pack of wine in her weak and tired arms, one of the bottles almost completely empty.

"Wow, Amy, you really went to town!"

"Yeah. I got a little nervous at the thought of talking to you because you seemed mad on the phone. I thought I could handle it without the influence of alcohol, but then I thought to myself, 'her hands are as brawny as Bernadette's old six-foot seven beautiful boyfriend, and I sure as hell don't want those back-crap crazy Nebraskan paws on my neck.'" Amy shut the door and crashed onto the couch, apparently not noticing my drugged addled soul which was occupying it.

"Danger! Danger! Danger! I shot stark-upright on the couch. "What are you doing here, Amy?"

With that, I fell back onto the couch, the drug still clogging my system. It has come to my understanding that once I had fallen back asleep, Amy and Penny conversed more.

"Why is Sheldon so tired?"

"Oh. Yeah. I juiced him up with a sleeping pill." Penny said nonchalantly.

"Curious." Amy paused. "Why did he come over here in the first place?"

"Well, he was really sad that you ditched him at your place, and even told me that you were mean to him! Then he went back to his place, only to find," she turned her head sideways, "wow, never thought I'd say 'only to find."

"What did he find?" Amy was on the edge of her seat, both in the metaphorical and literal sense.

"Only to find that the Looney Tunes were watching Babylon Five."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Unfortunately. Then he got into a fight with them and wound up here."

"Does the mere presence of my boyfriend irritate you?" Amy looked at Penny, obviously concerned for her wellbeing.

"Yeah, pretty much." Penny launched a surprisingly sarcastic smile at Amy. Amy was about to retaliate, but for some odd reason, reclosed her agape mouth.

Penny then traipsed over to Amy to retrieve a wine bottle, hurried over to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle opener, and popped the cork off of the wine. After draining a third of the blood-red liquid, she turned back to face Amy.

"This stuff really does work magic." She walked over to Amy and grabbed her by the hand. "C'mon, Bestie, we're gonna go get us some hineys to bite."

Amy tugged in the opposite direction of her friend, holding her ground by my side.

"No, I have to stay here with Sheldon and apologize when he arises."

"Oh, c'mon Amy, there's a whole city out here!"

"I will _not _go to some club to break the covenant I now hold with my tall, lean, and semi-attractive boyfriend."

"Fine, but you at least have to drink some more wine, you sound like a grandma."

Amy stared contemptuously at Penny before taking a swill of wine, still glaring at her.

"Just wake him up so we can party in the USA."

"You're choice, not mine."

Penny then walked over to where I was on the couch, and due to the fact that I was sleeping, I wasn't aware of their rude conversation about me until later.

"Danger! Danger! Danger!"

"Chillax Sheldon, we're not gonna hurt you!" Penny took another swill of her wine, her words already becoming slurred.

I rubbed my eyes before continuing my inquiry.

"Amy? Why are you here?"

"Well, I got the impression that I had made you sad, and I guess I was right. So, despite the fact that I dislike having to do this to the extent that I find it painful, I'm sorry."

"Well, Amy Farah Fowler, if you thought you could end this conflict with the two words humanity has deemed enough, then you'd be wrong. After precise mathematical calculations, I found that my work is affected greatly by my newfound niceness, and I have decided to nip it in the butt. So, I do not accept your apology, despite the fact that your offense was far less than that of Leonard's. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go and sit alone in my room." I rose up from the couch, and as I was in a drugged state, I acted quite stupidly by saying to Amy, "By the way, your skirt is especially heinous, and your breath smells of fermented grapes."

I then launched myself forward, avoided eye contact with Amy, opened my apartment door, and rushed past my idiotic 'friends' who, for some reason foreign to me, were still at our place. I raced past them, and upon entering my room, rammed the door behind me. After jumping into my bed with a force unknown to me, I ripped the covers from their place and forcefully covered my head. I was so angry at everything: at Amy, at Penny, at Leonard and Howard, and worst of all, at myself. I just couldn't deal with the fact that my friends had simultaneously rejected me. It doesn't happen to anyone, especially not Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper. After crying myself to sleep (which took at least two hours), I was finally becoming less agitated; then, like he always seems to do, Leonard barged into my room without permission.

"Sheldon?"

"Get _out, _Leonard! People don't come into my room, especially not traitors." I gave Leonard a look of anger and contempt.

"I just want to see if you're OK."

"OK?" I got out of bed. "OK?" I paused, sweat beginning to form in my pores. "The fourth Harry Potter movie was OK, Windows XP was OK, this, this is a nightmare, and you are the very being from which it stemmeth!"

At that precise moment, I raced past Leonard and grabbed my three-day emergency evacuation kit; where I was going, I knew there'd be supplies waiting. I then exited my room, ran down the hallway, and rushed to get my keys.

"Sheldon! Where the hell do you think you're going!" Leonard followed me through the apartment.

"To a place where no one will accuse me of everything!"

At that point, my temples were about to burst, and the sweat was pouring off of my body. As I exited the apartment, I saw my last glimpse of Amy and Penny before the stairway blocked them from sight. I knew where I was going, and how I'd feel happy when I got there, but for the time being, I had no idea how I was going to get to my safe haven. After reaching into my duffel bag to get my wallet, I rushed to the Pasadena Train Station, one of my favorite destinations. I stepped up to the ticket booth, asked for a ticket, and corrected the dealer-woman on a common grammatical error. She then thought it was necessary to berate me on the matter, but I simply blocked her out and waited to receive my ticket.

My train wasn't meant to leave for another few hours, but I knew that if I waited in the station, I'd become restless. I decided to walk to the next train station, one that was five miles away, in the hopes that I could keep myself doing something until I arrived at my destination.

The walk was long, and as that was the first time I had been in fresh air for more than thirty minutes in four months, it made me quite tired. During my three hour walk, I was twice forced to violate my rule of urinating on a foreign toilet, and on top of all of the other angst I was facing, that didn't help the situation. Nonetheless, I made it to the station on time, and sat down on the scenic side of the train-compartment. The ride was going quite well, and after four hours of uninterrupted pleasure, doom and gloom swept over me like a tsunami glides over a village. The nerd herd was approaching me from down the aisle, and with the quickened pace they had, I knew they weren't happy.

"The hell are you going, Sheldon?" Leonard gave me a steady look, the gang (including Raj, Howard, Amy, and Penny) swarmed around me in the process.

"I'm going to my mother's house. A place I am treated with respect and love."

After I'd said that, Amy stepped up to the plate (as I've been told people say nowadays).

"Sheldon, I realize that what I did caused you emotional and psychological pain, but as I know you remember, I gave you my heart and you stomped on it! The fact that your entire social group followed you onto a train going one-hundred miles per hour towards the Bible-Centric area of East Texas, said group containing a Jew and an Indian, is truly a definitive way to show you that your friends care enough about you that they want you back. I can assure you that I am speaking for all of us when I tell you that, despite your ridiculous idiosyncrasies, we want you back in Pasadena."

Amy stepped back, her bosom going up and down with her increased heart-rate.

"Amy, although I admire your heartfelt apology, this isn't about whether you like me or not. This is about the fact that all of my friends rejected me, and whether you all apologize or not, you still did it. I can one-hundred percent assure you that I will not tolerate such insolence, and have decided to return to my mother, a kind and spiritual being. In the few hours I was alone, I arranged to continue my research at a nearby University, and shall do so with vigor. Due to recent events, I have decided to work as many hours as I can, further molding my Nobel Prize into reality.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I am working on the finishing touches for severing all bonds and duties previously made necessary in all our groups' relationship, friend, and roommate agreements. The exit to this train is down the hall and to right, and the next stop is approximately ten minutes away. I would very much appreciate it if you'd see yourselves out, as I'd like to be on my merry way towards success."

With that, Diary, I refocused my attention on the laptop I brought with me, and was glad to find the group which had been surrounding me had dispersed. After a minute or two more of staring at my screen, I scanned the compartment for my friends, and only saw Leonard on his phone, most likely texting some snide comment about me to one of his friends. He then looked up from his phone and glared at me, and as he did so, I whipped my head back to stare at my screen once more. Then, as if she had read my mind, my phone lit up, showing the reasonably ugly photo of my mother which signaled that she was attempting to reach me.

"Mommy?"

"Hi, Shelly. How are you? I heard from Leonard that you weren't feeling too good."

"Why does he always have to intervene? Mom, I'm on my way home. I couldn't stand those poopy-heads."

"C'mon, Shelly, I'm sure they din't mean you no harm, right? Like the Lord says, thou shalt love thine neighbor."

"Mother, the Lord has nothing to do with my friends being rude to me. Over the past day or two, they have shown such disrespect for me as an animal that I was forced to defect to Texas!"

"Now Sweetie, are you plannin' to come to my home and talk to me about your sciencey things?"

"No, I'm coming to your home to seek safety: I won't bother you, in fact, I'll be at work for most of the living hours!"

"Now Shelly, I loves ya, but you gotta understand that you need to go back home."

My mother then began to sing about some spiritual hokum, and as she did so, I thought my ears might bleed. This was the one thing about my mother that I could not stand, and if it meant that I had to deal with a bunch of rude people who think an apology will solve anything, I would do it simply to avoid hearing about Jesus every other word. I then told my mother that I would take her advice, and as I hung up, I heard her mumbling words which I'd only heard her say when I left for a six week high-school summer camp when I was five, "And they say prayer dudn't work." I'm not sure I grasp the full meaning, but I'll figure it out someday.

I then packed away my bag slowly, thinking what I had decided to do through. I then traipsed over to my friends, hugged Amy (she forced me into it), and got off at the next station with them. I didn't say one word the entire way back, for one, because I was still angry with them, but also because I was teaching them all a lesson: You upset Dr. Cooper, and you don't get to hear his incredibly insightful and intelligent thoughts for an entire day. I was positive it would anger them, Diary, and that's exactly what I was hoping it would do.

That's all for now.

Sheldor The Ever Angry AFK


	5. The Invite Excitation

'Sup, Diary?

If you weren't aware (I'm simply informing you about some nonsensical colloquialism, and am, in no way, attempting to suggest a lack of intellect on your part), 'sup is some "word" (forgive me, Diary, for making quotation marks into an absurdity) used by the commoners today. It tasks me, how words have lost all meaning these days; don't you agree? Anyway, I have some excellent news, Diary, excellent indeed! My girlfriend, Amy, has offered me a once in a life time opportunity; and now, let the cards fall where they may.

I'll begin, Diary, from my office. I sat there, undisturbed, mulling about my work as I unraveled the mysteries of the universe. I stared at my board as I wrote, the liver-damaging Expo markers squeaking clear across the white laminate surface. Did you know that white-board markers are harmful, Diary? I did. Anyway, I digress, so must find my way back to the tale.

I had been working as many hours as I could muster at our little University in an attempt to keep the promise I had previously made to myself; in fact, I think it was working quite well: I had gotten close to a breakthrough in many different aspects of my work, and all in a matter of one month; something that, if I had spent that time with Leonard, would not have been a possibility. I also kept my interactions with Amy to a bare minimum, and Halo Night, for an entire span of four weeks, was off the table. While it was one of the most difficult times of my life (my normal schedule consisting of regular social activity, lengthy meals, and fruitful bowel movements), I realized that cuts could be made easily to improve said life for the better. When I was six, Diary, I promised my Daddy that I would win him a Nobel Prize. Granted, he then took his shotgun off the wall and shot four deer, but still, I think he delivered something resembling acknowledgement. With that promise in mind, Diary, I created a sixteen hour intensive work day, eight and one half minutes being assigned to urination and defecation, and another sixteen minutes and thirty seconds for my meals, both allowing for an extra four minutes before starting work again to allow successful digestion. To be honest, my schedule was fantastic! I could work, think, and labor over the many, many problems our world faces today. However, the more I write like this, the more I feel as if I'm one of those bat-crap Nobel Peace Laureates, people one associates with those of whom who possess some odd sense for helping others; and you know, Diary, what I say to that: poppycock.

* * *

><p>Hello, Sheldon Cooper's Diary,<p>

This is Amy Farrah Fowler, Sheldon's girlfriend. While my lean, pale, and handsome partner claims to be some sort of genius, his supposedly 'un-unravelable' password was ridiculously simple to break. Interestingly enough, I seem to be just as lenient with what I write in here as he; the more I write, the more I diverge from my real point in writing here: to inform you, Diary, of a conversation I had with Leonard Hofstadter _before_ I talked to Sheldon about my plans. While I myself do not possess an eidetic memory, I did the best I could:

It started at Leonard's apartment. It was mid-afternoon, and seeing as Sheldon was at work, I had two hours tops to get in and out.

"Leonard, can I talk to you for a while? It's about Sheldon."

"Oh, God; did you guys finally break up?"

I stood aghast, the short, hobbit-like man in front of me showing no sign of regret for omitting his hurtful comment.

"No! In fact, we are 100% going out."

"Even with the fact that your date nights on the third Thursday of each month are cancelled for the foreseeable future?"

"Yes."

"And even though he doesn't see me, his roommate, let alone you, his girlfriend, unless a biomedical emergency is brought forward?"

"Still, yes."

"Really? Even though…"

"Leonard, the point is not what Sheldon and I do together; I know what he is and is not doing with me! In fact, I've been trying to get rid of the 'with' in the last part of my sentence for quite some time now, but unfortunately I'm dating a sexual retard!

"And I can assure you, Leonard Leaky Hofstadter that I, being a neurobiologist, can tell you damn straight when someone shows the signs of retardation. The mere fact that he does not even seem to understand the obvious double-entendres presented to him in day-to-day conversation being one of the number one factors! Don't get me wrong, Leonard, all of your evidence is true, it's just that I need to talk to you about something else."

"Sorry, Amy, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's alright. Believe me; I'm used to it,"

Leonard then moved from his original position leaning on the counter towards the couch, his rear end consciously finding Sheldon's Spot to sit on.

"When I was fifteen, I entered an international science fair held in Sicily, Italy. My mom and dad saved up for three years just so they could send me to present my work! I would explain what I did to you, but with you being something as mediocre as an experimental-physicist, I'll yield.

"Now, this competition was meant for university students. I was competing against the smartest scientists in the undergraduate world! There were engineers from MIT, medical and biology majors from John Hopkins, and even a seventeen year old Indian girl who was following in the footsteps of Raj's sister Priya with her law based policy project. To be honest, I had never been more terrified of anything in my entire life. And let me tell you: when those judges came over with their too tight pants pulled right above their belly-buttons, I almost fainted! But still, I, Amy Farrah Fowler, presented my findings with confidence and outstanding vision. My display was impeccable, my speech exceptional, and my personality, like always, quite foxy. Three days later the judges announced the winner, and when they said my six syllable, fifteen letter name, I cried.

"I ran up to get my trophy, and as I held it up to the sky somewhat akin to the Disney-Baboon we all love too much, the main judge completed my day with a diamond-laden, truly spectacular tiara. After the ceremony was complete I pretty much took off, ran around the hotel, and screamed as loud as I could on the taxi ride to the airport the following morning. Not only did I get my name published around the world, I received an all-expense paid trip for two to see the Aurora Borealis in Norway. For two whole weeks. Now, they promised to pay for my trip at any time in my life, and despite my wont to see the Northern Lights the day after getting home, I knew that I had to save it until I had found the boy of my dreams.

"Now, while Sheldon isn't really the kind of guy I imagined getting married to, he is the closest I think I'll ever get. He's charming, witty, and most importantly, pretty smart. Ever since we started to get to know each other, I had this voice in the back of my head telling me to take him to the Arctic Circle. So now, I lay before you, 130 pounds of pure curiosity, wondering if you, Leonard, think that I should take Sheldon Cooper with me on a trip to Norway. Thoughts?"

Leonard, who decided it was alright to stare mouth agape and arms akimbo throughout my speech, quickly clamped his jaw together, contemplated his words carefully, and then, after a moment's pause, uttered a single word.

"No." I shivered in response.

"No! What do you mean no? That lecture was almost as compelling as the one I was forced to give my mother, an argument that specifically explained how Sheldon Cooper is not an unethical, unsafe, egotistical bastard!"

"Really? How'd you pull that one off?"

"Leonard!" I gave him a look so tempestuous that I was positive Shakespeare would be turning in his grave.

"Amy, don't get me wrong, the thought of Sheldon being gone for an entire two weeks is almost more than my experimental-physicist mind can handle, but to be honest, I don't think it's a good idea for anybody."

I glowered more. "Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn't take my boyfriend to the North Pole."

"One reason? I'll give you one reason. Because if he comes back happy, everything goes back to the way it was before. Sheldon will piss us all off more than you can imagine, I'll be around you more, something I know you don't like, and in addition, Sheldon, who will think that we all owe him our lives, will batter us over and over again until we're pieces of dog shit, his condescending attitude taking over our lives until our minds are blown to metaphorical pieces!"

After Leonard's mouth closed, I stepped back for a second in an attempt to fully digest what had just been said. I knew he was right, and I knew that everything he prophesized would probably come true much too soon for anybody's liking, but there was also something else that I, Amy Farrah Fowler, knew: that Sheldon is my boyfriend, and in addition, the only boyfriend I would probably ever have. If I were to throw this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see one of the most romantic natural disasters with a human being of the other sex, then I truly was what those cheerleaders called me in high school: a good-for-nothing slimy ass bitch with no heart.

"Leonard, while I fully understand everything you just said to me, and while I fully understand that you are right, I know that deep inside, my heart is telling me to go through with it anyway. I apologize in advance for the approximate four months of Sheldon-filled hell we're all about to go through, but keep in mind: we're going through it together. Thank-you for your wisdom; while I don't hope to see you on the other side, I take this moment to bestow upon you a token of thanks."

And with that, Diary, I hightailed it on out of there so as to insure Leonard wouldn't get up out of Sheldon's seat and blast me to pieces. Upon arrival at my apartment, I got straight onto my laptop and crafted a nifty invite to send to Sheldon. I informed him of the dates, the place, and the reasons for me wanting to take him. I gave an honest apology, and all in all, was pleased with it. I stuck it in the mail as soon as I had finished, and then, I waited for his reply. The next day, within an hour of the mailman going to 2311 Los Robles Ave, I got a text from my boyfriend. A text that contained nothing but a single word; and yet, this single word filled my body, mind, and soul with feeling so rich and soothing that I was forced to jump into the shower. Diary, the text read, "Yes."

* * *

><p>Now, Diary, even with my fantastic schedule, I wasn't fully content. To be honest, I missed Amy and the others (although I could take or leave the acquaintance). My life wasn't as slow-paced or fulfilling as it was when I had regular social interaction: to this, Diary, I damn the genetic code that prowls deep inside every living human. Anyway, Diary, the small but present hole in my life was to be cleaned and filled: Amy Farrah Fowler (one of the most intelligent people in this world who does not bear my name), invited me to partake in a trip unlike any other: a trip to the Arctic Circle. I received the invitation one afternoon after returning from work, and even though I was furious at Amy for her previous actions, I knew that any person, no matter how angry, could never turn up an opportunity such as this. Without a second thought I took my phone out from my zipped pocket, typed in my four digit password, clicked around to find my messaging app, and subsequently texted Amy. I then raced up the stairs, taking them three at a time (tripping only once) until I arrived at my door.<p>

"Thank-you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!" I shouted, too giddy with excitement to care about my hopeless cries to said deity.

"Leonard! Leonard! Leonard! You'll never guess what just happened,"

I raced over to my companion, who, much like a depressed monkey, sat head down on the couch. As I got over to him, I stopped.

"You're in my spot."

"Oh, shut up, Sheldon"

While I was rather irked by Leonard, my news was much too important to be interrupted by a silly point of my universe from which everything revolved.

"Amy Farrah Fowler has invited me to accompany her on a magnificent trip…"

"To the North Pole; I know."

"I- what? How do you know?"

"She told me."

"What? Why did she tell you?"

"No reason," he sat upright, "Are you excited?"

I dropped my workbag down onto the ground and joined Leonard by planting my rear end on the closest chair.

"Excited? I'm ecstatic! How could anyone be less than exuberant when they had the promise of a two week trip to gaze upon radioactive waves that interact with the Earth's upper atmosphere to form a show of lights magnificent enough to be only visible on the planets of Earth and Jupiter!"

My feelings of glory were too much to contain, and much to my dismay, I was forced to leave my conversation with Leonard rather abruptly, my stomach contents finding it necessary to show themselves once more, but instead of in a solid form, in a vile-tasting liquid stew. After three minutes of vomiting, I returned to the living room to hug Leonard, something I would never do on a normal occasion; however, Diary, as I'm sure you can tell, this occasion was anything but normal.

After getting my mojo back, I immediately raced over to my laptop, opened the lid, and started drafting my Going Away Party invitation. I decided to host my own 'party,' because, as you know, no one else can truly be trusted.

Amy and I are set to leave in two weeks' time, a time where there is meant to be sporadic sunspot activity. I truly cannot wait to see her face; I just know we'll have a blast.

Ok, Diary, I think I'm going to call it quits for tonight. I have a lot of work to get back to now, and even more work to do in the morning. When next we speak I will either be preparing for my trip after our little party, or on the plane ride to Norway!

Boy, Diary, am I one of the happiest Homo Novus on the planet!

Bazinga! I'm the only one!

Sheldon Cooper AFK


	6. The Celebration Malfunction

Top of the Mornin' to Ya', Diary,

The party was everything but successful, and if anything, was a complete disaster. However, I must say, the events were rather life changing. For you to be able to fully understand what occurred, I must relay what happened straight off the top of my head. Diary, what you're about to hear is rather exciting news.

* * *

><p>It was the day immediately preceding my trip with Amy during which I hosted the party. It was to be magnificent, a 'partie-triomphante' if you will. I had spent the previous weeks preparing for the observation of my departure, and to be frank, it was anything but easy. I had planned for a physicist from Cal-Sci to give a lecture that specifically explained the basics of my work with M-Theory, I was able to procure a video from a 1974 lecture with Stephen Hawking, and finally, the most magnificent, was able to get a fully functioning Justice League of America group to join us.<p>

With regards to guests, I had arranged for our usual social group to come, and in addition, Barry Kripke, Penny's ex-boyfriend Zach, and Stuart. Seeing as we were to have exponentially more carbon-dioxide in the enclosed space than normal, I, or course, purchased oxygen dispensers that were to be spaced evenly about the room. I took the liberty of upping the ante with our other safety precautions by reapplying the luminous paint throughout the apartment, purchasing extra biohazard masks, and finally, making everybody retake the CPR assessment with Mona prior to arrival. I was quite positive it would be a blast, Diary.

As the guests arrived at our apartment they were to be met by a shroud of balloons, assorted confetti, and many forms of appetizers, snack foods, and beverages. Food items were arranged by fiber content with regard to caloric value, whereas drinks were categorized by percentage of fruit juice and sugar content. I truly cannot say why I put all of the effort I did into organization as it was quite apparent that the lack of my guests' intellect would ruin my deed; nevertheless, I did, and took a picture so as to ensure that I would remember the occasion.

The first guest to arrive at our apartment was, much to my dismay, Raj. While we share many academic qualities, work together, and have a certain knack for having quality friend time, his alcoholism paired with the exposure to women that he was to receive was a disastrous mix that proved too vile to be resuscitated. He was wearing a black suit affixed with a neon-yellow polyester tie (one that I thought to be especially snazzy). He smiled as he walked in the door, I returned the gesture, and within a matter of seconds, his hands were firmly grasped around the neck of a large bottle of beer.

"So, where's the party?" Raj asked.

"Late," I paused, "How are you?" Raj was just as taken aback as I was at my query.

"Uh, fine, I guess."

Thankfully, Leonard decided to show up before I exchanged anything more with Raj.

"Hey, Raj. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm excited to be at a party with two couples, a dumbass ex-boyfriend, a lonely self-employed guy, a fiendishly abrasive man with an accent from a part of America that no one has heard of, and Shamy. How are you?" Raj lifted his glass as he finished his sentence, his lips parting in a reasonably hostile smirk.

Leonard eyed him before replying, "Great, thanks for asking."

Leonard then pulled his blazer together in an effort to hide his heinous tie, walked across the room at a brisk pace, took twelve steps outside of the apartment, and knocked on Penny's door. Although I was preoccupied with sporadically sending late-notifications via SMS to the other guests, Penny opened the door in what I can assume was a dress deemed 'ridonkulous' by Rajesh.

"Wow! You look beautiful!" Leonard smiled at his girlfriend as he wrapped his arm around her so-called perfectly formed waist.

"Thanks! You don't look too shabby yourself! But please, Sweetie, take off that damn tie." Penny gave Leonard a stern facial expression that clearly demonstrated the internal angst the article of clothing caused her.

Leonard closed Penny's door and walked her over to our place; upon her arrival, Penny and I exchanged smiles.

"Hello, Penny."

"Hey, Sheldon."

"Hi Penny; it's nice to see you too." Raj gave a longing smile at Penny before going off on some mental rampage.

Penny stared at Leonard, "What's his problem?"

"Well, seeing as he's only had one beer, I'd say Bridget Jones' Diary along with too much Twilight."

"Oh." Penny smiled.

Leonard and Penny (or, to get back at them for the queer amalgamation of Sheldon and Amy, 'Lenny,'), took right to the couch and started watching CNN. As I have no interest in local or national banter, I decided my time would be spent best reorganizing the plastic cups in a rainbow-esque way. As I did this, Raj took the opportunity to recycle his first beer and grab a second, and Leonard found it necessary to peck Penny's cheek. Finally, after an astounding seventeen minutes of late, Howard and Bernadette showed up, Howard in his red pants with a batman buckle, Bernadette in a short dress with tapered flowers and purple heels. Really, Diary, I cannot say why I described to you their clothes; the party must be having some lingering effects.

"What's goin' on here ma' nerd dizzles?" Howard swaggered into the apartment.

"What, you're going for your street-talk again?" Leonard quickly chided.

"I think it's sweet." Bernadette placed a firm kiss on his mouth.

"Hey! He's mine!" Raj shouted from across the room. Everybody turned. "To call sweet." Raj's deep brown cheeks turned noticeably red with embarrassment.

"Oh," Bernadette attempted to reconcile the awkward happenstance, "I didn't see you over there, Raj."

Raj subsequently turned from his location at the counter and rotated one hundred eighty degrees towards the sink.

"Well, anyway, how are you, Bernadette?" Penny shifted on the couch towards her 'bestie.'

"Great! How are you and Leonard doing? And Sheldon, why don't you come join us?"

I moved over from the concessions table towards the congruence of people.

"Well, I suppose the party can start now," I glared at Penny, "You're in my spot,"

Penny shifted her rear end to the right in time with Leonard, and I took the third seat on the plush cushion. Howard and Bernadette then sat down next to us on the chair, Bernadette's petite bottom being applied to Howard's petite pelvis. As I was about to open my mouth, Barry, Stuart, and Zach all showed up at the door.

"Well, herro, Woxanne!" Kripke muttered, slicking back his hair with his left four phalanges.

"Hey Guys!" Zach yelled.

"Oh, Zach," Penny turned her head towards me, her eyes widening as her lips moved apart, "I didn't know you were invited."

"Yeah, Stuart and Krip-uh-damn- Krip-krap and me went to O'Leary's and I almost got close to nailing this one hot chick in the bathroom!"

"Oh," Penny smirked, "Great."

In an attempt to bring the group back together I offered to begin the party's activities, "That is very flattering, Zach," really, Diary, his insolence surprises me at every turn, "Dance Dance Revolution is set up on the PlayStation, Jenga is in the cupboard, and Secret Agent Laser Chess can be set up in four minutes flat. Break."

After my brief interlude Howard and Leonard jumped up to grab the chess board, Penny turned to talk to Bernadette, Zach and his groupies chugged alcoholic beverages, Raj decided he would have more fun if he wasn't moping and waltzed over to Howard, and I attempted to organize everything. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Amy Farrah Fowler, my girlfriend, paraded into the apartment wearing a strapless violet dress that cupped her ample bosom softly and made her caboose as prominent as ever; she was smiling as she stormed into the party, stopping halfway through the complex to stare at the eighteen eyes that were glued to her to say, "I know: this dress is stupendous and my body is ravishing; girls, keep your men at bay!"

Diary, while my initial reaction towards Amy's clothing choice was shock and horror, the reaction amongst my peers changed my opinion: Amy truly did look beautiful. Her hair flowed down her arched back coming to a close near her third vertebra; her breasts sloped marvelously atop her chest; and her smile curved around her head from ear to ear. It made me realize that my relationship with Amy truly had changed. Amy is no longer my friend who is a girl, nor is she my girlfriend with whom I do not interact; Amy is my girlfriend, and I am proud of it.

"Amy," I looked her up and down once more, reveling in the sight of her curving figure, "You look amazing." My voice whispered like a soft breeze against a blooming willow tree, a voice I had never once heard in my entire life.

Amy looked towards me, and at first, showed no change in emotion. Then, when she saw my words had been utterly sincere, she launched herself in my direction. She jumped into my arms (which, if you should know, were not extended), and hugged me tightly. Diary, while I had decided right then and there to cherish my moments with Amy, hugging was something I still struggled with personally. The duration of the caress was approximately three point four-two seconds, plus or minus seven milliseconds; it was hard, but the fact that it was between me and Amy helped console my trepidation.

"Wow, Sheldon! I don't really know what I should say!"

Amy, who was still in her state of glamour, looked me over, smiled enthusiastically, and then took my hand, leading me over to where Penny and Bernadette were chatting about Amy's new look.

"Amy, your dress is stunning!"

"I know right! I saw it at some boutique downtown and just had to have it." She flicked her hair to the side.

At this point, Diary, I tuned the girlish jibber jabber out and turned my head in the direction of Raj, Leonard, and Howard. Their game of Secret Agent Laser Three-Person Chess was under way, and although I was not playing, it seemed as if Raj was taking over the game. He usually takes a casual defensive strategy, waiting to see exactly what the other players are doing before making his commanding first strike. As far as I could tell, his Old Woman was in a position that allowed for him to lash out at either opponent, while also giving him the option of using his Time Machine to get out of the center-area; it was genius. After spending four minutes watching Raj become the first champion of the night, I turned my attention to Zach, Kripke, and Stuart, all of whom were 'hammered.' They had unplugged a countless number of cables from the television (at least four of them being strewn about the floor like a mess of tangled snakes) and were singing along in what even cats could not call perfect unison. I don't know how the others were capable of listening to the offensive vibrations being released into their atmosphere, but to my amazement, everybody else seemed unaffected. After five minutes more of simply gazing upon the others' fun, I attempted to join in on the gossipy recreation that was going on about my living room.

"So, Bernadette, how is your new job at the pharmaceutical company?"

"Oh, Sheldon, she was just telling us about their wedding pictures!" Penny twisted her lip.

"Bernadette, which is more important: your great new job or your husband?" I smiled knowingly at Penny, attempting to use a form of sarcasm I've been developing over the past couple of weeks.

"Yeah, Bernie, who?" Amy playfully tapped Bernadette on the shoulder.

"I guess I can tell you guys later," she turned towards me, "Well, we've made some pretty big progress over the past month. We're trying to develop a formula of any kind, really, that will be able to find the source of premature ejaculation, nip it in the butt, and send the you-know-whats flying out and screaming when they should!" Bernadette giggled shrilly as she finished her sentence, smiling at her husband (who, at the time, had his crotch balanced precariously over a luminescent laser).

"Very interesting. What made you want to take part in a project such as this?"

"It's personal, Sheldon; I'd rather not say." Bernadette sipped at her wine.

"Okay, okay, that's fine," I smiled awkwardly at Bernadette before turning my attention to Amy. "Amy, would you mind joining me over by the fridge for a minute?"

Amy looked up from the conversation she had just launched with Penny about Howard 'in the sack.'

"Oh, sure! If you'll excuse me, my boyfriend would like to have his way," Amy snorted, "have a say with me."

I took Amy by the arm and walked her over to the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the raucous that was going on by the television set.

"It would seem as if you've been so busy chatting up your friends that we haven't even had the chance to talk about our trip together!"

"Oh my God, that's right! I almost forgot!" Amy put down her drink. "These past few weeks have been so busy at work; I haven't even gotten the chance to have a lengthy video chat with you!"

"I'm aware," I smiled, "Have you packed yet?"

"Of course! One mustn't ever be hindered by forgetting one's personal necessities!"

"It's astounding that we didn't find each other sooner, Amy," I sniggered, "I truly am honored and delighted to be in your company for these coming two weeks. The trip promises to be magnificent, the days long and glorious, and my time, if all goes well, romantic."

Amy, at the release of my semi-seductive sentence, breathed heavily, spreading her feminine perfume into my range of perception.

"Boy, you've changed; what's gotten into you? Never once have I heard you say the word romantic, let alone be inclined to induce such activity onto me!"

"Well, Amy, with time, many things can change. As Sigmund Freud once said…" Amy cut me off with a completely unexpected event: a kiss.

The moment Amy's lips met in sweet harmony with mine, I knew that our relationship had broken the barrier through which my partner had longed to jump for many weeks prior to this encounter. It seemed odd at first, but then, as the saliva (which, under any previous circumstances, would have caused neurological-hemorrhaging) made its way between us, my surroundings disappeared. I really cannot say what happened the moments after the kiss, but the room had gone silent upon release, and everybody was staring. After a moment or two of me gazing upon the audience like a deer in the headlights, Penny smiled, and then started to clap. After a brief silence, the rest of the room joined in on the cheer, and as my friends smiled and applauded us, I began to feel an odd sensation in my heart.

"During this moment of utter happiness in which Sheldon has realized his full potential as a human being, a moment which we all thought would be a nightmare rather than a dream, I put forth a toast: to friendship, to love, and to Shamy!" Raj paused a moment more, allowing for the group surrounding him to raise their assorted cups and bottles before speaking again in his increasingly slurred voice, "And before this glorious moment passes, I would like to take this chance to say: Howard, you truly are my greatest and most terrific friend. Even though you are married now, we share some of the best memories I will ever have. With that being said, I think tonight should be another one of those memories."

Raj put down his next-to-empty beer bottle, took two steps forward (two steps that set off three laser simultaneously), and planted his quenched lips onto Howard's agape mouth. This abrupt action caused the room to go into a state of panic; I, on the other hand, overcome with the roar of applause from before, fainted.

I cannot say with absolutely certainty what went on during the fourteen minutes I was out, but by the time I was awoken by Amy (courtesy of two bottles of chilled water, if I might add), Raj was nowhere to be found, Howard had his arms wrapped tightly around Bernadette, Zach and his friends had left to get more beer, and Penny was holding onto Leonard's hand, still in the same position on the couch. I got up off of the floor and headed over towards the group of people, trying to make sense of the turn of events.

"I-what-what happened?"

Bernadette was the first to break the silence, "What do you mean what happened? You saw damn straight what happened! My husband's little Indian friend thought it'd be a hoot and a half to stick his tongue down Howard's throat!"

Knowing that any words, no matter how considerate, that were to come out of my mouth and be directed towards Bernadette would end badly for me, I attempted to address the remaining crowd.

"Well, seeing as this party has come to its inevitable ugly end, I think it would be a good time to spend the last five minutes in a warm and pleasant gathering," I then turned to every individual person, getting them to train their eyes on my laptop. Within seconds of me coaxing the machine to life, my voice returned to the airspace.

"As you have heard many times before, I am not comfortable with prolonged goodbyes, maudlin displays of emotional, or outbursts of falsely guised sadness. As a result, I've prepared this brief video. If you are watching this, the party you have been at for the past few hours has probably reached its inevitable ugly end; although I couldn't know of the exact thing that was to throw this party out of whack, I sincerely apologize for you having to witness the event.

This video is meant to be a catalyst for my departure, smoothing the rough crease that will be left when the glue that holds our special little social group together leaves for Norway. I trust that my three dear friends, treasured acquaintance, tertiary-trio of tertiary men, and wildebeest, will have a pleasant time without me. Although I cannot promise that you will enjoy yourselves without me, I, again, am comfortable if you choose to believe that. Live long and prosper."

Much like I did the last time I left the apartment for a prolonged amount of time (that occurrence, if you'll remember, being my horrific Boseman endeavor), I left the room during the video. On my way to my room I grabbed Amy's hand (as I still needed to talk to her about our plans). I waited for the film to finish playing before entering my room, allowing for Penny's Nebraskan farewell to be heard, Bernadette's sniffles to be snuffed, and Leonard's mouth to be covered. Howard escorted Bernadette through the door and Amy looked towards me. With Leonard thinking he was alone, the short male attempted to catch Penny in a deep and passionate embrace.

"Leonard!" Penny stared deep into the soul of her boyfriend, although, based on the severity of her gaze, I am not positive they are dating any longer. Before Leonard could see Amy and I peeking, we hightailed it on into my bedroom; the front door was then closed, and Leonard was cleaning up from the party.

"So, Amy, we're going to Norway tomorrow!"

It was late, and both of us were quite exhausted, but with the thought of us getting onto a massive hunk of flying metal in the morning, we were doused with an extra shot of endorphins. I wrapped Amy in my arms tightly, held her there for a minute or two, and then let go.

"Yes, Sheldon, I guess we are."

* * *

><p>Amy and I somehow managed to fall asleep in the same bed. It was the first time I had ever had a sleepover with a woman who wasn't a visiting scientist; it was nice. While the plans I had had for the party had all been cancelled minutes prior to the beginning, I was rather pleased they weren't there for the fiasco. Now, Diary, I write you from my desk. It's four o'clock in the morning here, but our flight isn't until twelve. I plan on waking Amy in thirty minutes to allow enough time to get to the airport. Before I could get on the plane, Diary, I knew that I needed to write this down. I plan on giving you the latest details of our trip as soon as I can. My laptop will be close at hand throughout the trip, but I will definitely be spending the majority of my time with Amy.<p>

Until then, Sheldon Cooper AFK


	7. The TSA Displacement

Dr. Sheldon Cooper, again,

I write to you from my airplane seat, Diary, although I must say it's a miracle I even made it here. Amy is sleeping in the seat next to me, but since we're in First Class, she's approximately four feet to my left, across the aisle. I wish she were closer to me, to be honest, as I can't say I've fully recovered from the past few hours of hell.

It all began moments after I had finished my last entry, when I woke Amy up, to be exact. Prior to waking her, however, I finished packing my belongings. Afterwards, I poured myself an eight ounce glass of 2% milk, heated it up to one hundred eighty degrees, and sat down on the couch. I relaxed there for seven minutes (the estimated time it takes for liquids to comfortably settle in my system), and then, immediately after putting my glass in the dishwasher, roused Amy by tapping her three times on her right shoulder.

"No, Pierre! Help!" Amy shouted as she shot upright out of bed, my gesture obviously causing her distress in her dream.

"Pierre? Who's he?" I inquired.

"A French mime; you wouldn't know him," Amy smiled awkwardly at me before continuing, "How did you sleep?"

"Well, I woke up two hours earlier than normal, so as of right now, a bit dazed. It's 4:38; I've given you bathroom privileges until 5:12; when you're done, you can enjoy the meal I made especially for you." I made an effort at a smile, flashed it towards Amy, and waited for her response.

"Thanks, Sheldon. I'll get out as quickly as I can," Amy slowly got out of bed, stepped into the slippers that were set right next to the wooden frame, and made her way out of the door, "I can't wait to be in Norway." She beamed as she turned into the bathroom, flicked on the light switch, and turned the water for the shower on.

"Neither can I," I paused, looking straight at Amy as my legs began to shake, "Although, I must say, airport security has never been something that a certain Sheldon Lee Cooper is especially fond of."

"Oh, come now; it will be fine. All they do is send you through a machine while they complete a single check of your luggage to ensure you're not going to blow up the plane or anything. You don't have anything to hide, so you have nothing to worry about!"

"Yes, I know that; but while I have nothing to hide, per see, I do have something hidden."

"What are you talking about?"

"What? Nothing, nothing; I misspoke. Have a nice shower!"

Amy gave me a crude look, but closed the door behind her nonetheless. I was glad she wasn't a curious soul; I really didn't want to have to explain to her what I had been thinking of at that particular moment.

I subsequently walked over to my room, tapped thrice on the door to allow myself safe entry, and then walked over to where my ready-packed suitcase lay. I had packed most of my belongings three days previous, although most of my electronics, devices, and my pajamas for the last few days hadn't been packed until this morning. I took my suitcase by its upward facing handle, and carried it into the living room. I knew I should have gotten Amy's, too, but I really didn't feel like exerting myself much, and backed up my decision with the thought of finding feminine products that I would be better off not seeing.

After placing my bag near enough to the door that I could leave when I wanted to, yet not leaving it too close so as to introduce a safety hazard, I returned to my room to put the finishing touches in my carry-on. I was taking my laptop (packed with enough movies and programs to make most normal computers lag), two cell-phones, my GBA, my Nintendo DS, and chargers for all of them. I also packed Purell, baby-wipes, a roll of paper towels, a blanket, and a patch to cover my eyes so I could sleep. There were a few other things here and there, but they really weren't that important.

A few minutes after I had placed both bags by the door, Amy came out of the shower in nothing but one of my pale green towels. It startled me, and when she noticed my eyes upon her she made sure that her bosom was covered. She immediately turned down the hallway towards my room, her towel whipping around her legs. After she had closed the door, I thought to myself that it would have been smart to say something to her. Without much more thought, I blurted out, "I didn't see anything; don't worry." I didn't think she would be able to hear me, but the gesture was nice in my head, so I decided to offer it anyway.

A few moments passed where I merely puttered around my desk, arranging and then rearranging items to make the time pass; I must have picked up and replaced my forty-two number two Ticonderoga pencils a total of twenty-three times, at least, before Amy came out. She was wearing a light purple dress with flower print, a black skirt that clung to her form, neon purple tights, and black-buckle shoes. I thought she looked ridiculous, but as I had learned from previous interactions, insults to a girl's outfit can only ever end in disaster. I was wearing a simple orange t-shirt; while I really should have worn my scheduled t-shirt, travel makes me self-conscious, and I didn't want to make the TSA think I was a superhero.

Amy was wheeling her fluorescent purple suitcase behind her, and although it looked delightful, the wheel design was less than satisfactory. The positioning wasn't proportionate to the size of the bag, and the treads didn't add much to the likes of adhesiveness or traction. Nevertheless, her bag is her bag, and if she wants a bag with wheels as dumb as my sister, then she can have at it.

"Well, I think we're ready, right?" Amy glanced over at me.

"No. We have to take our commemorative photo, and before we can even set that up, we have to complete our briefing!" I couldn't believe she didn't remember.

"Sheldon! But I filled out the paperwork that clearly stated we could avoid said briefing; all it's going to be is you blabbing about some safety crap no one else cares about."

"First of all, you said "going to be" which clearly indicates you want it to happen; and second of all, when our plane is spiraling downwards, I'm not going to tell you which position your body should be in." I knew that would show her.

"Let's just go," she created a sound akin to an eighty-three year old man hocking a big one, as they say nowadays, "We should be in the airport in twenty-five minutes, anyway."

With that, Diary, we collected our belongings. I grabbed a house key, stored my Green Lantern Statue with the hollowed out buttocks in a safe location, retrieved Amy's breakfast of a traditional Norwegian open-faced sandwich, and headed out the door. We were finally on our way to the airport.

My mom always said, 'Shelly, you can toot your horn all you want, but you keep doin' it and you're just gunna git more ass kickins from the neighbor kids.' I love my mom, but she really doesn't know what motivational speech is; I should give her a lecture on it, but it's not like she would listen. If she were to sit down with a pastor who had received the same lecture from me, maybe it would sink in. I'll think about it.

We drove to the airport in Amy's car, and although the seatbelts still seemed to be made of cheap material that wouldn't even stop a paperclip, I refrained from complaining. If there's one thing I've learned from my years of social interaction, it's that one should only complain about another person _after _one has been given what one originally desired. It's a great principle; it works in a lot of places. The traffic wasn't bad, but Amy's driving was nowhere near adequate. I, at one point, was forced to bite my t-shirt so I would refrain from shouting. She didn't notice, of course, as I'm much too secretive; but if she had, I can only imagine what she would have said.

We arrived at the airport seven minutes earlier than anticipated, the extra time allowing for us to park on the floor which statistically has fewer car-robberies. It made my bowel feel more at ease, and while Amy didn't like me telling her where to park, I think she appreciated the sentiment. We exited the car confidently, as time was on our side. Knowing airports, however, and how heavy congestion at every time of the day is, I had my concerns. We took the elevator down to the ground floor, walked through the tunnel (which, by the way, smelled horribly of germs), and got into the line for Norwegian Air.

"This is going to be marvelous." Amy beamed.

"I guess so, as long as we get there alright."

"Sheldon, you know how unlikely it is to die in an airplane; get over yourself."

"Excuse me, Amy, but you and I both know that approximately one-thousand people die each year in airplane crashes alone; and with the new bombs and biomechanical weapons being invented everyday I think we have a sufficient number of things to worry about." My eyebrows were raised and in no mood to be argued with.

"Sheldon, please stop talking. People are starting to look at us funny, and I'm pretty sure a TSA agent to our left- don't you dare look- if staring at us. Just look straight ahead, zip your lips, and make your Koala Face; I intend on getting to Norway, and if it means leaving you here, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

I was shocked at Amy's reply, Diary. I was under the impression that the main reason she was going on this trip was because of me. Despite that fact, I chose to put on my Koala Face and buck-up; however, I definitely wasn't going to let her forget her actions. We checked in at the front-desk, got our luggage thrown onto the conveyer belts, and proceeded to head up the stairs to security. My stomach was starting to move about, and I was beginning to develop the intense nerves I get while traveling via plane. I didn't tell Amy because I didn't want her to be even more irritated with me, but as we handed our passports and boarding passes to the man behind the first checkpoint, I could actually feel my intestines moving in my muscle tissue. I knew it was a ludicrous thought, as one's stomach does not simply move about, but there _is_ _some _wiggle room.

"Oh, my."

"What?" Amy inquired.

"I just don't feel so great right now. I think I need to drink something. Amy, security makes me nervous."

"It's fine, Sheldon. You just put your backpack through the x-ray machine, place your coat and shoes along with it, and then walk through. We've both checked each other's bags for illegal items and got rid of any of them; hell, you didn't even _have _any when I first checked, only I did! Just walk through the metal detector and pick up your bag. Here, we're next, hold my hand."

Her hand was warm as she pressed her fingers against mine. It gave me some comfort, but as I looked into the eyes of the security personnel who stood just beyond me, I couldn't take it. Right then and there, Diary, like in the worst of one's dreams, I fainted. It would have been fine if it were anywhere else; if we were through security; if we were on the plane, even. At least there people wouldn't look at you and question whether or not you were a terrorist. At least in those other places, security wouldn't take you and your friend to a room few people ever see in the airport.

When I awoke, Amy was nowhere to be seen, and I was in a dark room all by myself.

"Hello?! What's going on?"

A minute or two passed before anybody walked in. When I tried to get up, I noticed my hands and feet had been cuffed.

"Dr. Cooper, please, stay seated," A man who was at least six feet tall glared down at me; he didn't look happy. At all. "It has come to our attention that you fainted in the middle of security. Why was that?"

"Well, much like all other citizens I have become more afraid of the TSA than I should be. I couldn't handle the pressure of your coworkers staring at me, and as my natural reflex, I fainted."

"Do you faint often, Mr. Cooper?"

"Dr."

"Excuse me?"

"It's Dr. Cooper. I have a doctorate."

"_Mr. _Cooper, do you faint a lot?"

"Well, I did faint yesterday. But other than that, I would say once every four months, at most."

"Most people don't faint that often. I ask because it is especially not normal for people to faint in the middle of security. Do you see why that might cause us some concern?"

"Where's my friend Amy? She was with me before."

"We'll get to her in a moment, just answer, please."

"Well, I guess. I didn't mean to alarm the other passengers, but you must understand why I was nervous, I," he cut me off.

"Do you know what we found lodged in your nose, Mr. Cooper?"

My eyes darted away from him immediately after he spoke.

"Yes."

"And what might that object be?"

I had no desire to answer, and didn't feel like he should even be asking.

"It's personal."

"Mr. Cooper, I am responsible for the thousands of people who pass through this international territory every single fucking day, so when I ask you a questions, you better answer it damn straight; do you understand me?"

My throat was closing up.

"Yes, Sir."

"So answer the damn question."

"A coin." I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"A coin," I couldn't believe I was saying what I was saying, "A Mexican Peso, to be exact. A 1978 Mexican Peso. So what? It doesn't hurt anybody."

"While I agree with you on that front, I will add that we couldn't be sure that that was a real Peso, now could we? All we could see was that it was metal and concealed in your body. To us, that looks like you're hiding something, doesn't it?"

"I suppose." I couldn't even look at him at this point.

"Now, we questioned your friend, Amy, a while back, and didn't find anything of interest; but let me just tell you, since she didn't know of the coin, it didn't make our jobs any easier. You'll find that the Peso is no longer in your nose; we had to remove it. A doctor drove in from the city and took it out while you were unconscious. It's on us, though," he took a breath, and smiled, "You're welcome."

After he terrified me with his speech, he finally walked over to where I was shivering, and unlocked my cuffs.

"Now, Mr. Cooper, we're letting you go, but this will show up next to your name every time you fly. It'll take an extra forty-five minutes for security to clear you, so plan accordingly. Lucky enough for you, you arrived three hours earlier than most people, so you still have ten minutes to get to your gate and board. Good luck; it's on the other side of the airport."

He waved his hand, dismissing me. I didn't even look back, and ran out the door as fast as I could. I imagined I was the Flash with the vision of an elf and scoured the lounge for Amy. I found her within thirty seconds, and when I saw her, I picked her up in my arms.

"Oh Amy, am I glad to see you."

She looked at me with her big eyes, and before I could say anything else, she snapped.

"Sheldon Lee Cooper! A Mexican Peso! In your nose?! Why didn't you tell me? When did it happen? Why did you have me find out from a TSA sergeant? Do you have any idea what kinds of questions they asked me? Now, because of you and your asshole of a nose, I have to get to the airport _even earlier _than I did today. Newsflash, Sheldon, normal people don't go to the airport when we did; normal people don't even get _up _to go to the airport two hours after we _left_. Now, don't even say anything; we have eight minutes and twenty-two seconds to get to our gate, which, by the way, is approximately nine minutes away. So, we are going to run there, and you are going to carry my bag because you are my boyfriend. Although, frankly, with your childish actions, I don't even know if I should call you that anymore."

She grabbed my arm, ripped part of my shirt, and threw her backpack into my face. She raced out of the security office, which caused the officers even more angst, and flew between the hundreds of people who were now occupying the halls. Posters lined the walls, but even I couldn't finish reading all of them at the speed we were going.

I hadn't run as fast as we were going since I was a teenager running away from the twenty-two year old seniors at college who were in the same classes as I was. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, as I knew that if we didn't run fast enough, we would miss our flight. I was already having to deal with Amy's anger at my Peso-fiasco; I had no desire to deal with her fury if we missed our flight.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, we reached our gate. I was exhausted, tingling, and thought I might throw up, to make everything worse. As we tackled the people at the check-in counter, we could hear our names being blasted over the intercom asking us to board. We handed over our tickets, apologized for being late, and ran through the long gateway to the plane. It was a huge trans-Atlantic aircraft, but the angry stares of passengers wanting to take off took away from the plane's beauty.

Our seats were amazing: spacious, reclining, and comfy, in first class. I know I already mentioned that to you, Diary, but I just wanted to clarify. I had never flown in first class before, and I really didn't want the people in Economy and further to think that I was some rich asshole who didn't care if he held others up; but that wasn't something I could worry about too much at that moment; I had an angry girlfriend to deal with.

"Amy, I know that not telling you wasn't a good idea, but if you had a toy soldier lodged in your uterus, would you want to tell me? You're a neurobiologist, I know you know the answer is no. Just believe the sincerity in my voice when I say something I say very infrequently: I'm sorry."

She looked at me, then looked away for a long while before finally turning back to me.

"I'm not _that _mad at you; I just wish you were more open with me. I don't care that you did some ridiculously astounding thing when you were a kid, I just wish you had told me so I didn't have to find out this way."

"I think I understand. Would you like me to buy you a drink?"

The plane was starting to roll out of its parking spot and the overhead seatbelt signs went on. The captain announced some remedial information over the intercom, and the flight attendants performed their ritual safety demonstration.

"Yes; I'd like that."

I called a nice looking lady over to retrieve Amy a glass of wine, and she responded after I paid her. She came back a few minutes later with a small plastic bottle, and handed it to Amy.

"Thank you."

"Here's to a getaway to Norway. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your taking me; although, based on the other males in our social group you could have selected, it's not like I had any competition."

"Oh, come now; I wasn't going to take you originally."

"What? Who were you thinking of taking?" I was once again taken aback.

"You promise you won't laugh at me if I tell you?"

"No," Amy glared at me, "But you should tell me anyway." I tried to smile at her.

"Fine," she took a large swig of her wine before continuing, "Zack."

I snorted in an amused and befuddled way.

"Zack?!"

Before I could launch into a verbal assault on what might have been the most ludicrous notion of Amy's to date, she opened her mouth widely and curled her lips into a bright smile.

"Bazinga."

With that, Diary, she fell asleep; and not as in she turned away and nodded off, but as in she all of sudden started snoring. I think the sleep medication I dissolved into her sandwich this morning must have kicked in. I put it in her food so that I would be able to play video games during the flight without her interrupting me. While it was selfish, there is nothing more exciting than messing around with chemistry. It's an amusing science; it's a shame it's considered a third of the science world.

Anyway, the flight is currently at thirty-thousand three-hundred fifty-seven feet, and it's negative seventy out. Our atmosphere truly is remarkable. We've been flying for a few hours, but are still only over the middle part of Canada. I hate flying. We're supposed to get in at six in the morning there; I do hope that the jetlag doesn't interfere with our journey. We've planned on a few activities while in Norway, and I'm excited about most of them. I learned Danish as a kid when I took the bus to a symposium in North Carolina. I was stuck on a bus for hours, and I really didn't have much else to do. I know it's not Norwegian, but I think it's close enough. I hope they understand me well!

I find airplane food disgusting and unsanitary, so dinner is out of the question. I plan on spending the next few hours continuing to play a Mario game from the 90's and keep the work that I've been researching for the past few months at the back of my mind. Amy is, as I mentioned in the first paragraph, by my side. I'm still trying to get over the airport incident as best as I can, but I think I'm going to need to call my mother as soon as I land to resolve my issues. She always knows what to say to me, and right now, I need some guidance. For now, however, I shall return to the constant ringing and banging of the engine, the snoring of the people surrounding me, and the smell of egg salad, the token sandwich stocked on planes.

I really do hate flying, Diary, and hate security even more. The way back could even be worse, but I really can't say. Over the course of the next week I shall update you on all of the activities and adventures that Amy and I take part in. We've already arranged one hike (neither of us particularly want to exercise, but the view of the fjords is meant to be a memorable experience), fish in the ice cold waters with the locals, and eat traditional meals every day. Norway should truly end up being an adventure for the history books. I am finally on the plane to see the Northern Lights; Amy is finally on the trip of her dreams; and both of us have the company of the other to both enjoy and loathe.

I'll write within the next few days.

Sheldor AFK


End file.
